That's My Barbie!
by blackbeltchic
Summary: During Welcome to the Hellmouth, we learn that Willow and Xander used to date, but broke up because he stole her Barbie...well, this is my take on what happened.....


Title: That's My Barbie!

Author: blackbeltchic

Disclaimer: the characters belong to Joss Whedon, not moi. I'm just having some fun with them.

Author's notes: I've never really thought about this before, until I came upon this challenge, and I'm glad I did, the idea rocks!

Challenge: The Barbie Challenge:

Have any of you ever wondered why Xander stole Willow's Barbie? Well  
WRITE it. Something small and cute, nothing HUGE.

Requirements:

Very few people from the Buffyverse, as in make it real. Giles wasn't  
around then, neither was Buffy so don't add them.

Other then that run with it.

HAVE FUN

Everyday at 7 am, except for Sundays, Mrs. Harris dropped off her son at one of his friends. It was a great arrangement; Mrs. Rosenberg would take both children to school, and pick them up afterwards. They'd play until she could come pick him up at seven.

One day, in the middle of the summer, around July, she dropped him off just like everyday before, and sped away before he was inside. Willow met him at the door, her favorite Barbie, her hair a bright red from a magic marker incident.

"Xander!" she was the first one to give him that name, and he liked it better than Alex, "Wanna play Barbies?"

"We played Barbies yesterday!" he whined as he kicked off his uncomfortable, cheap shoes.

"Then what do you want to do?"

"Uh…have you had breakfast yet?" he asked, not looking at her.

"Yeah, but I saved you some. Come on," she led him into the kitchen, though he knew right where it was.

As he sat eating, she sat across from him, her legs dangling and watched him. He was hunched over the plate, shoveling food into his mouth like always.

"Why do you always eat here? Don't you eat at home?"

"Yeah, but sometimes Mom forgets…I have to make my own lunches sometimes…"

"Oh." She was silent a moment, "Why do you eat like that? You look like the animals on the Discovery Channel."

"I don't know," he said, getting annoyed, "I just do."

"But why? There's always a reason."

"I don't know. Sometimes…if I don't eat fast enough, then I don't get to finish."

"Why? Mommy always makes me sit at the table until way after I'm done…she sometimes forgets I'm still sitting there, and I have to ask to be excused…"

"My life isn't like yours, ok? Just drop it."

"But why? And why doesn't your Daddy ever pick you up? Why does your Mommy work at a factory?"

"Because she does. And he…doesn't drive so well." It wasn't a complete lie. The stuff his dad drank made him a bad driver, and ever since his hours had been cut back, he drank more of it.

"Why doesn't your mom get a better job? My Mommy's an accountant for some store. She works at home. Why doesn't your Mom work at home?"

"Just lay off, ok?"

"I'm only asking a question…" she said, put out by his answer. Her mom always said she asked too many questions, but whenever she got one answered, she had five more to ask.

He hopped from the chair, "Just lay off it!" he grabbed her Barbie from her hands and ran out the back door. She stared after him a moment, and when he slammed the door, she burst into tears.

"Don't slam the door!" her mother's voice floated from her office.

She slid off her chair and followed him after she had stopped crying. As she thought, she found him up in the tree she wasn't allowed to climb.

"I hate you!" she took off the neon pink plastic ring he had given her when they decided to be girlfriend and boyfriend, and threw it at him, but she missed.

"Well I hate you!"

She ran inside, slamming the door behind her.

"Don't slam the door!"

After awhile, he felt bad about what he had done, and carefully climbed down from the tree. He had gone there because he knew she wouldn't follow. He found her in her room, consoling Ken that Barbie would come back eventually.

He knocked, knowing that he wasn't allowed in her room until she said so. She turned her back on him, and he entered, placing Barbie next to her, "I'm sorry. Dad drinks this awful stuff, and it makes him mean…that's why he doesn't come and pick me up. And he doesn't work so much anymore, and if mom had to pay your mom, then I wouldn't come over, because we can't afford it…"

"I'm sorry for saying I hate you. I don't hate you."

"I don't hate you either."

She was silent a moment, before turning to him, "Do you wanna play Barbies? You can be Ken!"

"Ok."


End file.
